Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Porter Ricks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Moss Icon,
Donny Hathaway,
Max Romeo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
Joe Finger,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Standells,
The Happenings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
Young Marble Giants,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Stereo Dub,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy Collins,
Guru Guru,
Dual Sessions,
Metal Thangz,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
Erykah Badu,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
David Axelrod,
Surgeon,
Junior Murvin,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
Fad Gadget,
Pulsallama,
Ohio Players,
Zero Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
The Last Poets,
DJ Sneak,
The Gap Band,
The Fuzztones,
Magma,
Youth Brigade,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.